Nightly Raptures
by A Bit Closer Johnny
Summary: Will & Elizabeth are forbidden to be in one another's presence during the day. But does that imply that they cannot meet at night?


Disclaimer: Do not/ cannot own POTC

**Nightly Raptures**

The waves crashed menacingly upon the shore as the soft, muslin curtains fluttered soothingly from the open window into the room shrouded in subtle darkness. Piercing eyes glowed from the inside of the abyss, and just as suddenly, vanished with a faint whirring. Then all was silent. The sea ceased its constant, irritated churning; the curtains let out a sigh and calmed, resting exhaustedly against the pane; the feathery whooshing and whirring quieted to not even a hum; until all but gentle breathing issued from the sanctuary. All but gentle breathing. Ecstatic breaths, passionate breaths, contented breaths, but still and sleeping breaths all the same.

The serenity enveloped the room in its warm embrace, growing closer and closer, more and more protective with the hours. The painful, bright hours which would arise just as suddenly as they crept away, allowing for the relaxed pleasure brought on by the moonlight. Then there came the beauty, the effervescence, the tranquility. The unimaginable exhilaration of life which emanated from the roars of the sea as Poseidon rakes his triton into the sand; the whistling of a merry breeze amongst the arbors; the air perfumed with the blooming of night flowers. Such was the moment.

The sea uttered softly its rhythms, suddenly breaking the silence, cracking the shell of protection which encircled the room. A sigh, swift and sublime, responded to the enticing sounds, and the moon grew high and near, abruptly casting a brilliant light into the darkness, filtering through the barriers. The glowing eyes appeared once more, but squinted, and with a flick of a feline tail, secluded back into the comforting shell. Yet another figure bravely appeared, the light reflecting an expression of exuberance on a porcelain visage, and, as if a spirit guided the creature, she glided towards the window, sliding back the pliant curtains, which turned bashful at the figure's livened loveliness.

The moonlight revealed a young feminine beauty who was greeted happily by the night; as a show of this happiness, the air entwined itself into her lustrous tresses, and she smiled, offering her pouted lips. With that hidden smile, she escaped, unseen and unnoticed, and led by the beckoning calls of the atmosphere. Scarcely clad, she shivered in the coolness as the breeze enthusiastically assaulted her. Nevertheless, she continued, her slippers sinking into the sand and dampening at the welcoming, teasing touch of water. She thrilled at the closeness, and still the sea kept at its teasing, enticing her to come near. She only offered a knowing glance, not daring to have her fingertips tingle at the ocean's touch. She would be inappropriate for her rendezvous.

She slipped away before the sea's grasping arms pulled at her legs, and knelt by a bed of lilies, so innovative and attractive as they floated obliviously in a calm pool. So innocent they were, with their fresh petals tentatively meeting the air. The beauty suddenly felt abashed, for her pursuits betrayed her innocence; her pursuits were audacious, capricious…essential. Her necessity to meet with nature in the hours of quietude was insatiable, unquenchable. However many draughts she took from the ever-giving moonlight was insufficient; however many conversations she maintained with the sea were unfinished. Night forever summons her—it is night to which she opens herself, for in day she is closed like a clam, unable to avert her eyes to her loves and desires. Night transforms everything.

Thus, she lingers, her reverent eyes casting upon the fireflies which flutter about the moon, their brilliant wings winking acknowledgement to her. Huddled she remains, in the hopefulness and happiness granted by the fronds beside her; all at once her appointment arrives—such a splendor which her sight beholds!

Hence, the maiden rises, as elegant as a swan and delicate as a faerie whilst a glow radiates her features as she reaches the one who captures her very essence time and time again…! Soft, softly does her silken scarf float to the ground and lay forgotten as the being she remains so charmed with draws near with fervency amidst his gaze.

Indeed, his abysmal orbs lighten at her faithful presence and he at once is replete with rapture. From setting forth, the gentleman's locks of ebony lay damp, subsequent of a slight rain, causing wonderfully cold droplets to appear on the lady's fingers as he catches her in an embrace. Fingers laced, engaging in an eternal dance of devotion, she is susceptible to his whispers and caresses; he, perpetually overcome with her irresistibility, follows close, never releasing her from touch.

The wind swirled about him and his inamorata—she, feeling a creeping shiver. With a hurried kiss, she made to bid him into her silent sanctuary, but he hindered her, pulling her close, longing to linger in the fleeting moment that was such a treasure. Blissful sighs—she returned to him, and they drowned in the sheltering darkness, wrapped in one another, exhilarated at the notion that night would forever be awaiting.

Night brings love; love is night.

* * *

Thoughts? 


End file.
